Keep a Promise, Inherit a Partner
by TriStateCopFan
Summary: This story is post FINAL BREATH and deals with Det. Bishop's first day and weeks on the job as Bobby's new partner. STORY COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

1**A/N:This story is post-Final Breath. (For those who haven't read Final Breath: #1 - It may not make sense or have any impact; and #2: Shame on You! Now go read and review, please! LOL **

**I know I said that in my next story, I'd resurrect Alex and write something happy, but this scenario kept running through my mind and writing it was the only way I could exorcise it. **

**The Usual Disclaimers: I own no right, title or vested interested in the LO:CI characters, but thank Mr. Wolf for "letting them come out to play with us."**

**Keep a Promise, Inherit a Partner**

Today was like every other day – the same routine: wake up, shower, do minimal make-up, style hair, dress and go to work. She'd done it thousands of times before.

Why did she have butterflies in her stomach?

Upon examining the question, she realized when they actually began fluttering. It was late in the afternoon, Friday, when she got the call. Her transfer request had been approved; she was to report to her new assignment on Monday morning.

Was it possible to simultaneously look forward to something and dread it? She tried to calm herself, mentally keeping her "pros and cons" list. "Pros: promotion, higher pay, prestige of the Squad, itself; prestige of new partner's reputation; more interesting/challenging cases...far more interesting/challenging partner. Oh, maybe that one should be on the "Cons" list," she joked to herself.

She assessed herself in the mirror, giving her dark Liz Claiborne suit and powder blue blouse a nod of approval. She loved the fit and feel of the suit, and this particular blouse gave beautiful accent to her eye and hair colors. Then she noticed the face looking back in the reflection – "like a goddamn deer in the headlights," she criticized herself. It was the look that overtook her features whenever the other half of her list, the "cons," crept into her mind. She didn't need to go over them again – – they had nagged her all weekend, resulting in a slight headache and nausea that she still hadn't quite overcome.

"Enough of this, I'm gonna' be late," she told herself. She locked her apartment and headed for work. It was a beautiful morning; the sounds and scents of the busy city morning made her feel alive and renewed her confidence – she was happy to be a part of it. Adding to her sense of satisfaction was the fact that she noticed a few male heads turning as she walked to the subway.

Her commute was uneventful. She enjoyed the subway ride, as it afforded her time to think and people watch. As any good cop, it had become second nature to always keep eyes and ears open in her surroundings, but that didn't seem to interfere with her ability to lose herself in thought, as well. And think she did...

_Back to the day two weeks prior, when she had visited Alex's grave. She had made up her mind on the trip over that if anyone else was there paying their respects – especially him, that she would leave – or at least wait until they/he left, so that she could be alone during her visit. The plot of land was meticulously maintained and she could hardly believe that only a month had gone by since the burial. Where before there was a deep hole and a pile of rich-brown earth, there was now plush green grass, and a beautiful, fresh bouquet of flowers. She knew who had left them. She wondered when Alex's headstone was going to be placed and what it would say. She looked to the right, reading the headstone of Alex's husband, and thought it so sweet that the two of them were together. To the left, it was bare. She wondered what random stranger would some day be lying next to Alex, sharing their eternity, as well._

_She sat cross-legged between the two plots and began talking, softly: _

"_Hi Alex. The place looks beautiful. If it wasn't for all the headstones around me, I'd feel like I was on the great lawn of Central Park, getting ready for a picnic. (She knew Alex wouldn't mind her sense of humor). The sky today is a beautiful, perfect blue, with a cottony white cloud passing here and there. It reminds me of how you described the day when you and Bobby went on your first picnic and, well, you remember what happened._

_Speaking of Bobby, he left you a huge bouquet of flowers...but you probably already know that, don't you? (she said with a slight chuckle). _

_Well, I just wanted to stop by and say hi and, well, to let you know that I kept my promise. I put in for the transfer, so I'm just waiting to hear back. I know we talked about this and how...how he would be. I'm gonna' do everything I can to help him. I remember everything you said – everything you warned me about – I kept notes, so don't worry. _

_I know that in his eyes, I'll never be able to replace you and I know it's gonna' be hard, for him and me, I won't kid myself, and we'll have our share of rough spots, but, I gave you my word and a promise is a promise: I will never leave the MCS or Det. Robert Goren of my own volition...no matter what he may do to make my life miserable...(she chuckled for a moment, but instantly returned to the solemness of her vow) ...I'll never abandon him. _

_So, I guess I'll be going now." She stood and brushed a few loose blades of grass from her jeans. "I just wanted to make sure you knew that– I'm keeping my promise and, umm, thanks for being such a great mentor." _

_While walking back to the cemetery gate, she had felt a slight tickle on her arm and found a tiny ladybug. Her mother had always told her it was good luck when a ladybug landed on you. At this point, she decided she needed all the "good-luck" omens she could find – she was going to need it._

The screech of the subway car as it pulled into her stop snapped her back to the present, but she was just as quickly lost in thought again, as she exited the station, ascending the steps to the busy sidewalk just a block away from One Police Plaza.

She had fond memories of the time she spent partnered with Eames while Bobby was out on a short leave, due to exhaustion. It was easier being partnered with a woman – someone who really understood what it was like being a female trying to make it in the male-dominated world of the NYPD. But, of even more interest to her, was getting the low-down on what it was like to be –to really be, the partner of Det. Robert Goren and not just some temporary fill-in.

Eames had given her great comfort in assuring her that her stint as his "partner" wasn't as horrible and unsuccessful as her own doubts and insecurities had made it out to be. Maybe they hadn't worked like a well-oiled machine, but they did do some solid police work and brought some bad people to justice. "As a matter of fact," Eames had told her, "Bobby's only complaint was that you just weren't me." Eames had gone on, reassuring her, "He thinks you're very bright and have a great future."

Yes, Eames had a way of restoring her confidence and making her feel better.

By the time Bobby had come back to work, she and Eames had spent many hours working together and almost as many chatting over coffee, or beer and pizza, while she learned the intricacies of working with Det. Robert Goren – what he needed, expected and wanted in and from a partner.

And it was after one particularly long night of talking, sharing secrets and truths that they probably never would have revealed had it not been for the liquor and loneliness, that they had made their pact.

xxxxx

She had arrived at 1PP and felt a little more comfortable, having noticed a few familiar faces in the lobby and elevator. It was a long ride to the 11th floor, as the car made frequent stops.

She walked through the Squad Room, saying good morning to those who acknowledged her. Were they really giving her a pitiful look that said, "So, you're stuck with him now. Good luck," or was that just her imagination. She was supposed to report to Capt. Deakins at 8:00 a.m. – she had 5 minutes to spare. She passed by Alex's desk. It was untouched –but her Santa mug was now on Bobby's side and she quickly wondered if he had actually "won it back" in their last wager, or if he had just claimed it now, as his own, for safekeeping.

As she approached Deakins' office, she could see the large figure seated in the chair in front of the Captain's desk. She mentally braced herself for the "welcome" she might receive.

Deakins caught a glimpse of her as she reached the open doorway and knocked softly. He stood, facing her.

"Come in, Detective. Welcome back."

"Thank you, Captain."

Goren rose from his chair.

"Bishop."

"Goren," she nodded, acknowledging him.

Bobby, holding his leather portfolio, walked by her, heading for the door. "I'll get right on this, Captain."

Deakins gave her a knowing look. "You'll be fine," he said, with a half smile. "Just give 'im time."

"I will, Sir."

Deakins handed her a manila envelope, full of various employment, insurance and tax forms that required her signature.

"Sign 'em all and get 'em down to Personnel by the end of the day, okay."

She nodded.

"Okay, then, I guess you can get to work."

"Yes, Sir."

She walked tentatively towards the shared Goren/Eames connected desk and, with great relief, spotted the vacant desk on the other side of the aisle, directly behind Bobby.

He had been waiting for her, to see what she would do.

She set the envelope and her belongings down on the vacant desk and announced, "I guess I'll get settled in here," as she wondered to herself when, if ever, the invitation would come to use Alex's old desk.

"Good move," Bobby thought to himself.

Bobby continued reading the file before him, but paused for a second; turning his head slightly over his shoulder, he commented, "You cut your hair short."

"Yeah, it's easier," she said, self-consciously brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"And you're not wearing high heels," he continued. "Another good move," he thought to himself.

She chuckled, "I learned my lesson the last time."

xxxxxxxx

And so began Detective Lyn Bishop's first day on her new/old job. She was prepared to do whatever it took to be Detective Robert Goren's partner.

Detective Alexandra Eames had gone to her grave keeping Lyn Bishop's secret. Detective Lyn Bishop would now spend the rest of her days, dedicated to fulfilling her promise to her mentor.

End. Chpt. 1


	2. Partners, Old and New

1**A/N**: **The usual disclaimers, but Dr. Vincent Rizzo is mine. Thanks to the readers and, especially, the reviewers: Justawritier, lally1743, bammi1, 08ClassicRockChicky08, Sw33tangelgrl, Lina-Baggins and Strawberry-ksc. Your kind and encouraging words are greatly appreciated.** **I'm glad you enjoyed it! I hope you enjoy this, as well.**

Partners, Old and New

Bishop settled into her surroundings. It hadn't taken long to stock and organize her desk with the usual office supplies. Bobby hadn't spoken to her yet about any pending cases and she wasn't sure if she should feel slighted at being ignored, or appreciative that he was giving her time to get adjusted to her new surroundings. She stood, glanced over at his desk and made her way to the coffee pots, pouring a cup for Bobby and herself.

"Here ya' go," she smiled, as she placed the cup on his desk.

"Th-thanks," he practically mumbled, distracted from his reading.

Bishop was still standing next to his shoulder; she sipped her coffee while trying to catch a glimpse of the file he was reading.

"You don't have to do that," Bobby said, making Bishop step back a couple of inches.

"Sorry." She felt awkward.

"No, I meant serve me coffee, y-you're welcome to read it," he said, as he handed her the file folder.

"Oh, that's okay – I was getting myself some, anyway and saw you were out. Thanks" She took the file and returned to her desk."

xxxxxx

The remainder of the week went much the same. Paperwork, investigating, phone calls, meetings with Deakins and Carver, accompanying Bobby to Court one day, when he had to testify. Bobby had worked later than she had, every night except Wednesday. She wondered if he had had plans but, of course, wouldn't ask. She kept her behavior professional and polite and, by week's end, Bobby had once asked for her input on something and had picked up the tab for their deli lunch on Friday. (That would become his custom and Lyn wondered if it was some type of overture on his part to say "thank you" for staying another week).

The following days and the weeks flew by. Before she knew it, she was flipping the page on her calendar to a new month.

This time around, Bishop had a new take on being Goren's partner. She knew she was there for the long haul. She had to make it work, not just because it was truly the career path she dreamed of, but to keep her word to Alex, and now armed with the better insight imparted on her by Alex, she felt she had a better hand to play – never the "upper hand" on Goren, but a better hand.

But Bobby, too, was different this time around. She could see his sadness, especially on those occasions when she'd catch a glimpse of him lost in thought, staring at Alex's empty desk. She had seen a similar look – the day he threw that wadded up paper at her desk, but that time, there were hints of anger and frustration on his face. This was just sadness– a look of being lost. He had even slipped one day, swiveling his chair around and handing her a file, "Eames, take a look at this," he had excitedly said out of habit, but he immediately apologized and seemed embarrassed. All Bishop had said back was, "It's okay."

She was sometimes so tempted to just tell Bobby everything about the "How to Handle Bobby Goren for Dummies" crash course that Alex had drilled her through; about how Alex had told her all the stories about Nicole Wallace and John Tagman...even about Nelda...and Bobby's mother and childhood. Bishop thought it would help Bobby to know that she knew and understood all these things and still asked to take the job as his partner. Wouldn't that mean something to him? But, that would be a betrayal of her agreement with Alex, "So, Bishop," she said to herself, "You're just gonna' have to prove it the hard way."

She spent her weekends catching up on housework and laundry, shopping and reading– one of her favorite pastimes, but this weekend, she decided to visit the cemetery to see if Alex's headstone was in place and to talk to her and fill her in on how things were going. She had approached the plot and saw that the headstone was, indeed, there (as was another fresh bouquet of flowers) and began reading, silently, "... irreplaceable partner." The words resonated in her head. Obviously, the family had given Goren a say on the matter. Her heart broke a little for him while, simultaneously, a feeling of inadequacy overtook her. Then she looked to the left, her breath almost taken away from being startled. "Robert O. Goren..." she read with a whisper. "I should've seen that coming."

She once again sat on the cool grass and told Alex about the events of the past month. After twenty minutes or so, she got up and followed the path back to the main road, still lost in thought; so distracted, in fact, that she didn't see the tall figure watching from the black SUV parked on the roadside.

xxxxxxx

Upon arriving at work on Monday morning, they greeted each other with the usual, "G'morning, how was your weekend?" followed by the usual replies, "Okay, nothing special," or "Too fast, I can't believe it's Monday again." Neither of them mentioned their cemetery visits, although it was still very much on Bobby's mind. The week was progressing as usual, except on Wednesday, Bobby received a call on his cell phone in the midst of their meeting with Deakins, and excused himself, wandering over to the hallway for privacy. The call had taken less than a minute and upon his return to Deakins' office, the Captain questioned, "Anything up?" Bobby merely shook his head "no" and said "it was a personal call – sorry." It roused Lyn's curiosity.

xxxxxx

Bobby was running late –he hated the added traffic of "matinee Wednesday." DP's was an out-of-the-way, hole-in-the-wall bar/restaurant, far enough away from 1PP to avoid the risk of bumping into someone familiar. It was dark and private – the perfect place not to be seen in. Bobby arrived more than twenty minutes late. Once his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he spotted Vince Rizzo at the bar.

"Vince," he said as he approached, "Sorry I'm late."

"That's okay. I was a few minutes late, myself." He held up his half-empty glass of bourbon and water and let out a sigh, "I needed this today." Bobby watched as Rizzo downed the rest.

The bartender approached and Bobby ordered a scotch and soda for himself and ordered a second round for Vince. Once their drinks were served, they found a booth far in the back and settled in.

"So, how's it going?" Rizzo asked.

"Okay," Bobby said, taking a sip of his drink.

Rizzo let out a chuckle, drawing a look from Bobby.

"That was the least convincing 'okay' I've ever heard."

Now it was Bobby's turn to laugh. He should've known better.

After the waiter took their dinner orders, they continued talking about how Bobby was really feeling. Rizzo questioned him on even the most minute details of Bobby's daily activities. It helped Bobby just to talk and, truthfully, he was surprised at how closely Rizzo had been paying attention, especially when he asked:

"So, Bobby, you said that you turned your chair around when you went to talk to your partner...the time you called her 'Eames' by mistake."

"Yeah," Bobby said, with a "so what" expression on his face which Rizzo read with no effort.

"You tell me," Rizzo dryly answered.

"I-I'm not fol-following you," Bobby answered.

"I think you are, Bobby," Rizzo dryly said. "You stammered when you answered me... because you wanna' avoid the subject. "

Bobby cut his steak, avoiding Rizzo's comment and his eyes. He took the bite of steak from his fork and chewed longer than he needed to – a passive-aggressive control maneuver, to keep Rizzo waiting.

"It's okay Bobby. I'm not going to force you to talk about something that you don't want to. You know that's not the purpose of our get-togethers," he said, while dipping a french fry in ketchup.

"I'm just, I'm not ready," Bobby said, eyes downcast.

Rizzo put his utensils down, giving Bobby his undivided attention. Can I just tell you something?"

Bobby saw the true care in his eyes. "Sure," he nodded, as he placed his fork down and took of sip of Coke.

"I've treated many people over the years, Bobby, and noticed a common occurrence when dealing with the bereaved. People tend to hold on to tangible things, mementos that remind them of their loved ones. They leave clothes hanging in closets, they leave bedrooms untouched– sometimes even for years, as if they're keeping some sort of memorial. My job, in helping them go forward with their lives is to help them realize that these things aren't necessary in order to remember someone they love. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying not to keep photographs or a precious memento here and there around the house; I'm just saying that the best way to honor someone is to keep them alive in your memory and in your heart." He took a sip of his drink.

"Of course I remember her," Bobby said softly, "every day...hell, every hour of every day."

"I know you do," Rizzo answered. "So, letting someone sit at her desk wouldn't diminish your memories or love for her, would it?"

"No."

"This woman, Detective Bishop; you told me she was one of the detectives who helped find and capture Alex's killer."

"Yes," Bobby sighed.

"You must feel you owe her a debt of gratitude. And now she's your new partner – she wasn't forced into it; she actually applied for the position and chose to work alongside you?"

"Yes," Bobby nodded.

"You were partnered with her, temporarily, a while back and now she's returned to you."

"Yes."

"Don't you think it would be nice for you to look up from your desk and see a partner sitting there – knowing that someone was there for you?"

"I suppose," Bobby half-heartedly agreed.

"Do you realize that your actions, the way you've treated her so far, have probably made her feel–at the very least, unwelcome? I mean, the message you're sending is that she's like some second-class citizen unworthy of even sitting at a desk – a used piece of furniture, just because Alex once sat there?" Rizzo asked calmly.

Bobby protested, "I didn't, I – I only..."

Rizzo cut him off. "I'm not saying you did it intentionally, Bobby. I don't believe you would ever treat another human being like that."

"She hasn't complained."

Rizzo gave him a admonishing scowl at the comment. "All I'm trying to say is that honoring and respecting the dead is fine, as long as it's not done at the expense of disrespecting the living."

Bobby sighed deeply.

"I'm just trying to help you sort out your thoughts, Bobby. You have a real, live flesh and blood person who obviously wants to be your partner. Give yourself a chance. Give her a chance. It's the least she deserves.

Bobby nodded, resigning himself to the next step he knew he had to take. Knowing that it was the right thing to do didn't really make it easier, but he couldn't imagine that he could hurt any more, either.

They finished their meal and spent another half hour or so exchanging small talk over dessert.

Bobby picked up the check. "See ya' next week, back at the regular place?"

"Yep, see ya' then."

The two men exchanged a handshake and brief hug, and went to their respective vehicles; Rizzo was heading home; Bobby was heading back to the office.

xxxxxx

On Thursday morning, Bobby was scheduled to meet with Carver at his office, to go over his testimony for a trial that was coming up the following week. Bishop was scheduled to meet with Deakins for a status conference at 8:30.

Bishop arrived at the office, carrying her coffee and bagel. She walked to her desk to place her things down and froze: it was empty. She felt a twinge of panic in her stomach and wondered, softly out loud, "What the hell?" She spun around, but instantly remembered that Bobby wasn't supposed to be there first thing in the morning. That's when she saw it. Alex's desk, cleaned off and newly, neatly arranged, just the way Bishop had kept her desk. She walked closer to take a better look and spotted the small envelope. She recognized the writing: _"Lyn."_

She unsealed it and began reading:

"_I hope you don't mind I took the liberty of relocating your desk – admittedly to where it should have been on your first day back. I'd like to talk with you sometime – maybe some night after work you'll let me take you to dinner. I'm sorry and I appreciate your patience with me. B."_

She took a sheet of paper and wrote a message back to Bobby, folding it neatly and placing it in his top drawer.

She then went to Deakins' office for her scheduled meeting and, once that was finished, passed the rest of the morning catching up on paperwork.

Deakins had peeked through his office's blinds and noticed Bishop at her new desk. He smiled to himself, now more confident that the pairing was going to work.

Bobby returned to the office while Bishop was out to lunch. He had grabbed a sandwich, a Coke and the newspaper on his way back from Carver's office. He sat at his desk and opened to the crossword section, reaching into his drawer for a pen – instead feeling the paper. Curiosity filled his face as he opened it and read:

"_Bobby,_

_Thanks. I'm happy to be back. _

_Whenever you feel the need to talk, please don't hesitate. Here's my home address and phone number, in case you didn't have them – – and if you show up at my door sometime with a pizza and a six pack, all the better."_

_Lyn."_

xxxxxxxx

Bishop returned from lunch hour and came to her new desk, smiling a "Hello" to Bobby.

He smiled back, "Hi! How's it goin'?"

"Good, how 'bout you?"

"Good, too."

Bobby watched as she unpacked a small tote bag, placing a picture cube and another picture frame on her desk, followed by a Wyle E. Coyote mug/pen holder which she placed in the corner of the desk.

Bobby looked at her, tossing his head in the direction of the mug; "Wyle E. Coyote, huh?"

She smiled, only a little embarrassed. "Yeah, I have a little collection at home."

"Why him?"

Bishop shrugged her shoulders, "I dunno' – I guess because he never gives up."

Bobby nodded, chuckling softly, as he continued watching his new partner claim Alex's old desk as her own. A dash of sadness momentarily swept over him, but was quickly replaced by a sense of relief –bordering on happiness. It appeared that Detective Lyn Bishop was here to stay.

They met later in the afternoon by the coffee pot. Bobby leaned in close, to whisper a private message in Lyn's ear, (his proximity giving her goose bumps), it was the closest he had ever been; it was the softest she had ever heard him speak, "Thanks for not giving up on me."

THE END


End file.
